by Nikki Duncan
“I don’t like crowds.” Not since she’d tried to hide in one at this fairground.
“Okay.” He led her away from the crowds and noises, away from the carnival and toward the moonlit beach. His hand drifted to the small of her back. “While being alone with you is a risk it’s one I’m willing to take.”
“I have work I should be doing.” Where were these arguments earlier when she could have avoided the inevitable possibilities of this night? Why had she left her office?
“Me too. It’ll be there later.”
Relaxation should get easier as they moved away from the noise of the crowd. Oddly, the quiet was worse. It held more mysteries. The heat which had receded from her ears returned, spread down her neck, over her cheeks.
All the training she’d had, every piece of advice on how to effectively lie, the practice of mastering her bodily reactions like not reacting to the being-watched-itchy-skin sensations… They all vanished leaving her as unprepared and unarmed as any civilian woman in the arms of an amorous lover.
“Trevor…” She rolled her shoulders but the tough to reach spot between the blades continued to itch. It wasn’t the you’re-being-watched kind of sensation so much as a he-knows-your-secrets type. She hated both.
“Lori.”
“Why are you pursuing me?” she interrupted. “Why can’t you see how wrong I am for you?”
He shrugged.
“There is a better woman out there for you.” A quiver of jealousy threatened her composure, but she squashed it. “A woman who would love to go to carnivals with you.” One who isn’t a freshly peeled walking wound.
“Sure.” He paused at the beach’s edge and toed off his shoes. His stare locked on her as he raised one foot and then the other to remove his socks and roll up his slacks.
“You leaving those shoes on?” he asked with a glance at her heels.
“I’m not walking on the beach with you. Besides, it’s cold.”
“Okay.” He shrugged and began walking. “I’ll give you a ride home when I get back.”
Again he didn’t argue or try to win her over. Damn, but he seemed perfectly content to leave her there. Alone. In the dark.
She looked toward the car, now unseen. Toward the fairground, the cacophony of noise once again rising. Toward Trevor’s retreating back. Toward the dark path leading to a place bright enough to call a cab—not that she had her wallet or any cash. She’d apparently forgotten all her training.
By the time she’d decided and shed her shoes, she had to run to catch up with him. “You have a strange way of treating the woman you claim to want to marry.”
He shrugged again.
“You bring me out here and then leave me.”
“I brought you for a fun time at a carnival. You said you didn’t do that scene well.”
“I don’t.” Lori found herself fisting her hand despite his apparent serenity. There was no way he could be as relaxed as he pretended.
“Why not? You used to be lighthearted, ready for fun.”
“I was taken…” She bit her tongue, surprised again at how easily she spilled truths to him.
“From that theme park?” He spoke so quietly she felt rather than heard the question.
His hand came to rest at her back. “I know you were taken hostage.”
“What else do you know? What else did Breck tell you?” Clearly more than she’d thought.
“That you were in bad shape when they found you, you needed time to recover, and you testified against the people you should’ve been able to trust.”
His sympathetic tone, as if he felt sorry for or pitied her grated. She stiffened her spine and knew her voice would be hard. “Those people betrayed me. They lied to me, used me to kill men, then tried to kill me.” She had fallen for their claims, believed she was working for the government. She’d been a pawn in corruption.
“You couldn’t have saved Channing.” Trevor stopped walking and turned to face her directly. “But you did save me.”
“Not without landing you in the hospital broken and comatose. Those Channing left behind still grieve.” She still grieved. Channing Harris, a brilliant researcher and man with high morals, had become a friend.
“That’s not going to change. Yet my involuntary attempt to kill myself led to an FBI undercover operation, which resulted in the arrest of everyone involved. It resulted in your freedom.”
“You have some chatty sources.” A half-expected reality given the close friendship between Trevor and Breck.
“Not chatty enough.”
“You knew about my captivity.”
“Because Breck grew tired of watching me hunt for you.” A shadow crossed Trevor’s face. “Not that his information helped.”
His hands held her arms, warm and solid, saying he’d be there as long as she wanted.
His unspoken constancy, his willingness to forgive her anything and his complete lack of judgment wriggled into a corner of her brain and heart and soul. Part of her canted toward the glowing warmth of the sentiments. The controlled part she’d listened to for years—and especially needed to mind now—pulled her away from sentimentality and entanglements. Pulled her away from Trevor.
“I can’t handle what you ask of me. It’s too much. It’s too fast.”
She stepped back, breaking his hold, and hugged herself. Trevor’s shadowed face darkened and his shoulders dropped.
“I haven’t hidden my hopes or feelings, but I don’t recall having asked for anything.” Defensiveness crept along his tone, almost unnoticeable, but not entirely.
“You ask even without words.” She turned away and walked along the surf. The chill gripping her bones wasn’t entirely due to the December night air. He followed.
“What am I asking of you?”
“As if you don’t know!” She sounded hysterical, her voice pitched so high she hurt even her ears. “Every look, gesture, gift, email, hell even your silent absence pressures me.”
Trevor chuckled once. “And here I’ve been working to not push.”
“Go ahead. Get your jollies.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, Lori.” His hand rested against her back while he walked alongside. “I enjoy knowing you’re affected by me.”
“Egotistical jerk.”
“Just male.”
The pads of his fingers flexed against her, pressing and easing. Her back heated and radiated comfort she didn’t understand or deserve. She’d cost men their lives even before Channing. With as close as Trevor had been to dying… Forgiveness was too high a reach. “You aren’t just anything.”
“I am. I’m also just a man concerned for the woman he loves.”
“Well stop it.”
“Being concerned or loving you?”
“Pick one.”
“Can’t. So why don’t you try talking to me instead of hoping for things you’ll never get?”
“Talk about what?” A fist of fear gripped her throat, tightened with a thickening of tears until she hardly recognized her own voice. The debate burning in her brain centered over her real fear. Was it that he couldn’t really forgive her or that he could and would love her anyway? The latter meant she held all the hang-ups.
“About your captivity. How were you caught? What made you run after my…?”
“Hypnotic trance-induced suicide attempt?”
“Yeah.” He smiled a little ruefully. “I’d like to know more than Breck shared. Why you can’t release your guilt when you weren’t the cause.”
Lori dropped to the sand, wrapped her arms tight around her knees and stared across the rolling waves.
Maybe telling him some of what had happened would get him to step back and give her breathing room. She doubted it. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t right for him. She hoped not. Either way, he deserved to know he hadn’t suffered alone.
“Gullible, with no one of importance left in my life besides Misty, and she was going to school across the country, I was recruited in college by
a branch of the government, or so they led me to believe. Whitestone turned out to be a private firm filled with corrupt people whose moral compass was more than a little warped.”
Trevor said nothing as he sat beside her, not attempting contact, as if he knew she wanted none.
“My missions in the beginning were standard enough assignments. Information retrieval, ops support. Between assignments I was constantly being trained. Hand-to-hand combat, firearms, seduction, history, pop culture, politics.” They’d covered it all, turning her into a female chameleon as adept at saving herself as MacGyver. Well, except that last time.
“Each mission became more dangerous with less intel being shared.” And each one had chipped away another piece of her spirit as she’d sunk to the belly-slithering levels of Whitestone.
“By the time I was assigned to Madame V and Elegant Entertainment I had learned my intel was being used to kill innocent people. I wanted out.” She gnawed on her lip, weighing the wisdom of continuing. “You made me believe escape was possible.”
“Lori.”
She waved him off to keep from getting sidetracked or grasping at an excuse to stop. She started. She had to finish. “That last night… I didn’t know I’d been turned into a weapon, how vulnerable I’d made you.”
“But you figured it out.”
“When I got back to the mansion I overheard Madame V talking about you and some contract.” The chilling dread from those eavesdropping, eye-popping moments flooded her again. “She laughed about how you’d been maneuvered more easily than Channing and how you’d have signed the papers and killed yourself within the hour.”
“And you rushed back for me.”
“I regret a lot of things. I never risked myself personally.” Had never seen anything worth fighting for. “The idea of you…”
“You stopped me.” Trevor scooted nearer and circled her waist, pulling her tight to his side. “I’m still wondering why you ran.”
“Madame V heard me as I left the mansion. She had me followed and when I yelled for you—”
“They went after you.”
“And followed me to that carnival—” she pointed toward the Ferris wheel, “—where I’d hoped to get lost in the crowd. Instead, they used my distraction, my worry over you, against me.” The distraction of wondering if she’d successfully stopped Trevor because she hadn’t had time to see if he’d stopped before walking into traffic. She’d only heard squealing tires.
“When I woke, I was in a dark room. No more than a closet.” She shook her head to knock back the emerging memories. She’d finally reached a point where she controlled them, but talking it out diminished her power.
“I’m not sure how long they held me, or even what they did to me. Some of it.” She gripped her head as remembered agonies ripped free.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Trevor kissed her temple and sat with her for a long time. Neither spoke or moved beyond the beats of their hearts and the blinks of their eyes.
Finally, Trevor stood and hauled her to her feet. “You’re free and while your work at the store is an understandable refuge it’s time to face one of your lingering fears.”
With his palm flat at the base of her back, telling herself to argue, Lori walked with him toward the carnival.
Chapter Nine
Around and around, with Lori pinned close to his side, the Ferris wheel circled.
Around and around, wondering how long he’d wait until she accepted him openly, his thoughts circled.
Around and around, fighting for victorious dominance, his desires to give her time and seduce her circled.
As concerned as Lori had been about the crowds, she’d only tensed up a few times. Once, near the house of mirrors, around the corner from the Ferris wheel, she’d stumbled to a stop. Staring and shaking, pulling against his unbreakable hold, and gasping in wheezy, sawing breaths, she’d battled back whatever darkness had groped for her until she’d finally been able to walk on.
“You’re awful quiet for a man claiming to have come here for a good time.”
“Just thinking about the babe in my arms.” He tucked her head beneath his chin as they passed the ride operator again.
“She must inspire morosity then.”
“Never.” Though she certainly wasn’t happy.
“Says the man weighted down with seriousness.”
No one said honesty was easy or lightweight. “If my thoughts took a depressing turn it was only momentary and to be expected given some of what we’ve been through.” Especially when he thought of the atrocities he’d been told she’d suffered. Atrocities she hadn’t spoken of but that had obviously changed her.
“You’re right.” He nuzzled her, inhaled her lavender and mint scent enhanced by the fresh air at the top of the Ferris wheel. “Beautiful view. Gorgeous woman. I must work on my priorities.”
“Do, because you’re a little depressing.” Faster than a breaker flipping, her tone lightened.
“Let me correct that.” Giving her no chance to argue or prepare he turned her head and claimed her mouth.
“Mmm.” She melted. Opened.
Their tongues danced, advancing and retreating, leading and following, as the world rocked and rolled. She likely still had reservations, but they no longer ruled her.
She rubbed against him, purring low. His cock swelled, ready, eager for another night buried deep.
Lori swung a leg over his, enticing him to explore her more intimately, and drove thoughts of propriety backward in his mind. He flattened a palm on her thigh, kneading the lean muscles, easily imagining them wrapped around his waist or thrown over his shoulders.
With his other hand he pulled her flush to him and delved deeper into her mouth. Tension amassed at the base of his spine, slowly spreading in an outward radiation, gripping and squeezing, tighter and tighter. He massaged her thigh and back. She thrust her tongue against his.
The bucket rocked.
The gruff and knowing chuckle of the operator reminded Trevor where they were. The reminder, though, did nothing to cool him off.
“We can’t stay here,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Mmm-hmm.”
The wheel stopped as the bucket in front of them emptied. “Let’s go to my place.”
“Okay.” Her slurred agreement carried him back to the one full night they’d spent together. When she grew tired or became hyper-aroused her words bumped drunkenly into one another.
The ride operator released the safety bar with a grin. “Have a great night.”
Trevor grinned in return and lifted her leg off his. “Plan to.”
He kept Lori close on the way to his car. The scents of the park grew richer. The cacophony of carols and games blended into a melodious tune intended for seduction.
Desire danced down his spine and as badly as he wanted to take her back to his home—not the apartment attached to his office but the beach house where he spent weekends—it was too far away. Hell, even the elevator ride up to his work apartment would take too long.
At the car, he went to open her door but instead pinned her between him and the door. Wanton, freer than he’d ever seen her, Lori rolled her hips, rubbing her heated crotch against the erection shoving at his zipper.
His fingers dug into her hips, pressing until they were whitened tips. He nibbled her lobe. “I want to taste you, Lori.”
“Okay.” She bit his neck lightly.
“I want to strip you naked and feast on you.”
“Sounds delightful.” She slipped her fingers into the waist of his pants. His dick strained closer to her seeking fingers, but no contact was made.
“I want to spend every night for the rest of our lives loving you.”
“Sounds tempting.”
“Good.” Calling on the last of his restraint, he released her to open the door for her. Once she’d slipped into the seat and reached for the seatbelt he rounded the rear, using the time to calm his system. His heart slowed three beats a min
ute if he was lucky. Then he slid into the small space beside Lori.
The aroma of her scent tantalized. No. He wasn’t going to make it to the house or his office apartment.
“Where’s your place?” He started the car, giving notice to the rumble of power only because it echoed the hum inside him.
“Past the office” She turned in her seat with her left arm outstretched and resting at his neck. “But my roommate is there.”
Her slender fingers slid into and out of his hair while the fingers of her right hand popped a button loose and fiddled with the hole. In and out. In and out. Her touch on his neck. The slide of her pinky through the button hole. In and out. In and out.
“Damn.”
“We could be at the office in ten and go through the back of the shop.” In and out. In and out.
His blood revved. His foot pressed the gas pedal down. His mouth went dry. His balls tightened. He didn’t even have her naked and she had him ready to launch. Pressing the pedal lower, he swung the car toward their offices and cursed the remaining two blocks.
“Get your keys ready.”
Her pinky tangled in her shirt, ripping it open so the next button popped. Her lace-clad breast winked at him as she dug in her pocket for the key. A line from a romantic comedy he’d seen snapped into his brain. Hello. Put me in your mouth. I taste good.
He twisted the steering wheel in a tight grip.
Lori arched her hips off the seat to dig deeper in her pocket. His cock bellowed that he pull over, bury himself in her, claim her. Damn he wanted to. He shook his head roughly, hoping to straighten himself out, and slowed enough to pull into the garage and park.
She didn’t wait for him to turn the car off before she was out and headed toward the back entrance into her warehouse. He caught up to her as she pulled the door open and wasted zero time closing them inside.
With rushing fingers, she tugged and pulled at his clothes, busting a few buttons loose as she pushed his shirt off and to the floor.
“We should slow down.” She should be savored.
“We’ll slow down next time.” She shoved at his trousers, panting heavily. “And the time after that.”
